Command and Control
by northernexposure
Summary: Chakotay can't get something out of his head. Short ep addition to season one's Elogium. J/C.


**Command and Control**

Chakotay can't get something out of his head. Short ep addition for _Elogium_. J/C. Rating K.

**A/N:** I've been rediscovering _ST: Voyager_ on Netflix, watching it all again from the beginning, something I haven't done since it first aired. I always loved it despite its faults, in particular because of the Janeway/Chakotay interaction. I don't know if I'll write more FF for them, but this was just there. (For anyone who might be rusty, Chakotay reports to Janeway that he's caught two crew kissing in the turbolift. Janeway responds by acknowledging that they're a long way from home and it's inevitable that people will begin to pair off, which prompts a surprisingly blunt question from her First Officer.) Reviews appreciated, if you have time.

* * *

_"Does that include you?"_

Later, he can't fathom how he came to ask the question – where it had come from so suddenly; what he had been thinking, to give it such a clear voice. Perhaps it was her reaction as he told her about catching the two crewmembers kissing in the turbolift. There had been a sparkle in her eye, a burst of rare laughter that brushed surprisingly close to delight. Chakotay wasn't sure what he'd been expecting – for the Captain's jaw to set, perhaps, for a flash of that unmistakable steel that enabled her to command with perfect assurance in such extraordinary circumstances. What he'd got was a Janeway he'd rarely seen, and a glimpse of the kind of compassionate understanding that would help keep this crew together and functioning through the difficult years to come.

Her eyes had flashed to his, and he saw the surprise in them, although she covered it quickly. Later, as he'd thought about it (as he'd kept thinking about it), Chakotay wondered what had gone through her head in that moment. She'd been taken aback, if only slightly, glancing up at him just for a second before looking away again. But her pause did not remove the smile, despite how unutterably sad her next words were, if one were to really think about them (and he did).

_"As Captain, that's one luxury I can't afford."_

She had answered the question as directly as he'd asked it – of course she had, it was not in her nature to prevaricate, and even less so to be coy. What would she have to be coy about, in any case? What answer had he been looking for? What, exactly, had he been asking?

_"Does that include you?"_

_"As Captain, that's one luxury I can't afford."_

Two brief sentences from the convoluted dialogue of their lives, exchanged - as so many of their shared experiences were – on the very public stage of _Voyager_'s bridge. In the grand scheme of things, it meant nothing, and yet it stayed with him. She'd talked about her fiancé, Mark. Obviously, she hoped to get back to him - of course she did, they were to be married. But the more Chakotay tried to put that tiny exchange out of his mind, the more he thought about it – about why he had asked the question, primarily, but also her answer.

They were 75 years from home. _75 years_. And yes, that was a worst-case scenario, but surely that was the assumption the command crew at least had to operate under, because to do otherwise was foolhardy, both practically and spiritually. Chakotay didn't know Mark and had no reason to believe that the man would find a new union elsewhere, either actively or by chance. But realistically, 75 years was a lifetime, and judging by the photograph in Janeway's ready room, neither of them were in the first flush of youth. Even if Mark did find happiness elsewhere, he could be alone again by the time Voyager returned to the Alpha Quadrant. He could be dead himself. He could be dead already, and how would they even know?

Had Janeway really resigned herself to being alone for the rest of her life? And if she had, could she actually do that? Did she really think that companionship and love – hell, sex, even – were _luxuries_? Could she control herself – her heart – so completely? She had spoken about loneliness in a way that made him see she felt their isolation as deeply of any of them. And that brief laugh, that tiny sparkle – the Captain was not hardened to joy. Her smile, when she used it, was a bright one. It made him think that away from her role as Captain, she laughed often, and easily. Could that joy survive in the face of 75 years of loneliness?

He didn't want it to have to.

He didn't want to see that joy tarnish and fade, either. There was something… beautiful about it.

These were the thoughts that rattled around Chakotay's head long after his shift had ended. He sat in his darkened quarters, a glass of replicated whisky in one hand and nothing in the other. He rarely drank whisky – he rarely drank at all, meditation was his usual path towards relaxation – but sometimes the sharp, smoky tang was exactly what he needed to focus his thoughts. Not that it was helping him unwind at the moment. If anything, it was doing the opposite. Something was winding itself around his mind. Those words, that little laugh, and the idea of her long loneliness, circling his thoughts in a repetitive loop. Ten seconds had become ten hours, could easily become ten days, ten weeks, ten…

She shouldn't have to be alone. He cared that she not lose that spark, that joy. He _cared_ about that.

Chakotay shook his head. He didn't want to think about it. It wasn't his place. It wasn't his problem. But he _couldn't _stop thinking about it, which meant it _was _his problem. And it was one he could do without, frankly, because the 'problem' was merely the first bud of a flower that he clearly could not allow to bloom.

If only he hadn't asked the question. If only it hadn't been the first thing that jumped into his mind.

Sighing, Chakotay swallowed the contents of his glass and stood as the burn hit the back of his throat. He shut his eyes.

"Computer, what is the location of Captain Janeway?"

_"Captain Janeway is in her quarters."_

"Is she asleep?"

_"Affirmative."_

He nodded. Her smile reflected itself on the inside of his eyelids. He opened them.

"Computer, what is the location of Lieutenant Torres?"

_"Lieutenant Torres is in Engineering."_

He tapped his communicator. "Chakotay to Torres."

_"Torres here, Commander."_

"You're up late."

_"Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd get a head start on the manifold couplers readjustment – it's scheduled for tomorrow. What's your excuse?"_

He smiled. "Can't sleep either. Fancy a game of racquetball? I seem to remember I owe you a thrashing."

He heard her snort. _"In your dreams, Chakotay."_

"Yeah, yeah," he mocked, gently. "Bring it, Torres. See you on the holodeck in ten minutes."

_"You're on, old man."_

He cut the link and stood in the softly humming darkness of his room, trying not to think. Trying to let it go.

He wondered what she looked like asleep.

_Don't_, he told himself. _Just. Don't._

[END]


End file.
